Fallacy
by Hypermuffins
Summary: Ever made an Inquisitor that makes all the bad decisions? Well, so did she. In which a young woman is trapped in her tyrannical Inquisitor's body. A story of how one socially inept and incredibly anxious person adapts to the harsh environment which is Thedas. Life isn't all sunshine and daisies and this one is about to get a wake up call. Adapt or die, little dwarf!
1. Chapter 1

We always see a confident character, someone who is strong and capable. Able to adapt and learn. What if we follow the path of someone who suffers from extreme anxiety? Depression? Harsh isn't a sufficient enough term to describe the situation Luna is in.

Could you guys do me a favor and let me know how I'm doing during this story? I, myself, suffer from a lot of the same things Luna does. So it makes it easier to portray. But any pointers and advice would be appreciated! This is a story I will be updating on the side. My main one that I'm working on is Note to Self: Don't Die. So once that one is done, I shall focus on this one. But in the meantime, I shall post when I can. :3

* * *

 **Fallacy**

Wrong place. Wrong time.

Of course it would be on the day I decided to actually go out for a walk. Of course it would be but three days from my 23rd birthday. Of course.

It had been a nice clear evening, the sun setting and sending beautiful orange hues dancing across the sky. I inhaled the crisp autumn air as I enjoyed my peaceful walk in the middle of my small hometown. My ratty Converse slapped and crunched against the debilitated pavement.

I wasn't really well known in this town, because of my tendency toward avoiding people whenever humanly possible. I, for the most part, lived on possibly the most rundown side of town. Well, let's be honest here, this whole town was a wreck.

 _That's when it happened._

Have you ever had a firearm pointed at you? Now try imagining having one pointed at your face. Not a pleasant experience all around, one could imagine. It really wasn't.

"H-Hand I-it over!" The young man chattered, his words slowly registering in my panick-stricken mind. Everything seemed to slow down, my heart threatening to burst out of my chest. Me, not being the most socially competent person alive, had absolutely no idea how I was even supposed to react. What did he want? I had nothing!

The highschool-aged man, eyes sunken in and face pallid, continued to speak unintelligibly. Muttering, hands shaking, finger dangerously close to the trigger of the handgun.

Intimidated wasn't a sufficient enough term to describe what I felt at that moment. Terrified, maybe. Terrified was cutting it short, I couldn't even speak. My voice refused to work, body frozen. The only thing I could see was the end of that gun and my imminent death.

"N-No – t-that, I—" Was my fumbled attempt at telling him, _'No please, I don't have anything.'_

And I really didn't.

Nothing ever worked out the way I intended.

Staring down a barrel of a gun was the last thing I remembered seeing, before the loud _**'CRACK! CRACK!'**_ echoed through the air. The sound resonated through my ears. Or, more specifically, my left ear.

Then the world shifted and tumbled. The orange hues in the sky seemed almost red, now. Red and ominous. Red and-

Screaming, yelling, fast-paced footsteps. Frantic talking, sirens. My vision was fuzzy, spotty, slowly beginning to dim. It felt like the area just below my breastbone was on fire. The pain laced down to my abdomen and shot into my legs. I—

 _'Of course.'_

* * *

It was dark everywhere, my body felt weightless. Light as a feather as I scanned the darkened area. Like I was floating at the bottom of the ocean, long black hair fluttered around me in a halo. Up, down. Side to side. Nothing.

Then images. Like a slide-show, played before my very eyes. First was a scene with my daddy back when I was a youngling. I was seated in front of a television screen, fingers clicking on the controller repeatedly. Black unkempt hair draped in front of lifeless brown eyes as I turned to look at the man walking into the room. The darkened room highlighted the dark circles underneath younger me's eyes. The game on the screen blurred, making it impossible to see what I'd been playing at the time.

"All you do is sit around and play video games all day!" My dad's scolding words echoed through my head. A phrase I heard, even from mother. All throughout my life. Even though I worked hard to support myself and keep out of the way. Be less of a burden. Videogames an outlet. A way out of the real world.

 _Never good enough._

Then the scene shifted and I was staring up at my mother, body small and stunted. I was but 9 years old. My little hands were pulling at the ends of my hair anxiously, twisting and twitching.

"You take after your _father_." The taller woman sneered, hand splayed out and raised in the air. She was about to strike me when – the figure disappeared like smoke. It scattered into the empty blackness, my ears ringing.

Where am I? What was I doing? When—oh. I'd gotten shot and was likely bleeding out somewhere, right? Someone would eventually find me and call an ambulance. Right. I would live...

Right?

I wasn't dead, I _couldn't_ be—

"When has anyone ever cared enough to help you? You're worthless." My own voice spat the words into my ear. Me. My self-doubt.

 _And I believed every word._

* * *

I half expected to wake up, realizing that it was all a vivid dream of some sort. I've had quite a few of those, in my time. Dreams tugging and tearing at my insides. Making me relive my biggest fears. The other half of me expected to blink out of existence. No heaven, no hell. I, after all, did not believe in those kinds of things.

But that was not the case.

Neither happened, in fact. My eyes cracked open and my pupils constricted painfully. The sunlight shot through the tall windows at my right, piercing into my eyes. I was then greeted with a vaulted stone ceiling, a cool breeze shifted passed my face. I felt my hair prickle against my cheek as I slowly processed everything.

My head was absolutely killing me.

"Fuahh... Uuugh." I breathed, urging myself into a seated position. Oddly enough, it only made things worse. Dizziness and nausea hit me like a truck, my stomach threatening to spew it's contents all over the red silk bedsheets spread across my legs.

"Lady Inquisitor, you mustn't overwork yourself ye-" The young woman's voice was cut off as I twitched and whirled in her direction, the world tilting and spinning as I did so. Even in the haze of my mind, I noticed how she flinched and stepped back. As if to give me space.

"Inq—what?" I slurred, voice sounding almost higher pitched than it usually did. Actually. It sounded nothing like my voice, at all. I squinted in her direction, her blurred features slowly coming into focus. Wide green eyes stared back. Fear and a little … concern?

She skittered forth, hands shaking but outstretched as she made a move to ease me back onto the bed. That's when I took notice to the room. Or, rather, how familiar the layout looked. Eyes flicked to and fro, frantically scanning the surrounding area. It was almost surreal, seeing it through my own eyes instead of-

Instead of-

"Inquisitor?" That title. My gaze zeroed in on the wisp of a woman that stood next to the oversized bed that I occupied.

Her freckled face had scars sweeping across, as if she'd gotten attacked by some sort of animal. But what stood out to me the most? The tapered ends of her ears. I tried not to stare. I really did. But I was gaping like an idiot, more like. She didn't seem to take offense.

If anything, she didn't seem to notice.

This wasn't real- Wasn't. It wasn't! I was breathing fast, then. Lungs constricted, unable to take in enough oxygen. Vision beginning to spot, the woman tried to speak again as she grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

I vomited.

I couldn't control it, really. The heaving hurt as it wracked my body relentlessly. Tears fell down my cheeks and I could faintly make out yelling. The maid was distressed. I was distressed. We practically fed off of one another. A crescendo of anxiety, threatening to burst like a balloon.

Her, because she was covered in my vomit. I was too panicked to feel bad, my mind elsewhere. Churning and screaming. A nightmare.

This was absolutely ridiculous! I was dreaming. This wasn't real. It really wasn't. This was like something out of a bad movie. Or, to be more specific, a fanfiction.

 _I was—I was._

I zeroed in on my hands, shaking and sweating. Chubby, calloused fingers gazed back and it felt like my stomach dropped through the bed and onto the cold stone floor.

 _I wasn't—_

"Boss?" Heavy footfalls scraped on the stonework. The deep voice was familiar and when I looked up, that cinched it. That was it, that was- "I heard you yelling and... _oh_. That's nasty."

His eye flicked down at the mess I'd made on the side of the bed. My face blanched.

Seeing the massive burly form of the Qunari was the last thing I saw before I felt my eyes cross and world go dark.

 _ **He was much bigger in person.**_

* * *

— _I wasn't me._

I was coming to, again. This time the voices sounded like they were behind glass. But the more I focused, the more I could decipher what it was they were saying.

"...there... all over the bed?" A deep voice asked, which was followed by some more murmuring.

I let out a tired sigh as my eyes opened for the second time, everything seemingly clearer. Though a bit …. stinky. Then it occurred to me that I had just vomited all over the poor maid woman. Then the feel of a soft, but wet, cloth being dragged across my arm seemed to heighten my senses.

I'm certain I mentioned my dislike for interacting with people. A hiss of air escaped my lips as I pulled away, the maid jumped as if frightened. Her unusually large green eyes scanned my face frantically before she stood up and grabbed something off of a nearby stand.

"A-Adan said to g-get you to drink this when you woke up." She held out a small clay cup, the contents unknown to me. The front of her outfit still had some gunk plastered onto it, but she continued. A woman on a mission. I would have taken it, had I not been occupied with my surroundings. Yet again.

I was left in confused silence as I stared at all that was the Inquisitor's bedroom from the videogame Dragon Age. What added to the climbing anxiety, which was almost crippling at that point, was the fact that I had two people staring at me. Judging. Probably silently wondering why I hadn't taken the offered cup? Self-consciousness gripped at my insides, only to be squashed the second I laid eyes on the Qunari.

Or, rather, Iron Bull. _The_ Iron Bull.

My breath came out in pants as he stared down at me with his eye. Calculating, seeing _through_ me. Though his face held a jovial smile. I—I wasn't sure if that was concern in his eye or suspicion. He just—he wouldn't stop staring at me. Why was he staring at me?

The cup was pressed against my lips and tipped. My shaking body didn't offer any resistance as I swallowed, then promptly gagged. The bitter liquid burned my throat and some of it spewed out of my nose in the process. It stung!

"W-What-" What was _that?!_ It tasted like absolute garbage!

" _That_ was a healing tonic." I grabbed the thing from the maid's hands and nodded, blatantly not looking up at the person that spoke. Iron Bull grunted, probably having realized this.

"What is y-your name?" I spoke softly, looking at the elven woman. She looked surprised for a moment before slumping her shoulders slightly. I, at the very least, wanted to know the name of the poor person I'd vomited on. Maybe I could make it up to her sometime.

"Aww, Boss. You don't remember Mika, here? She works _tirelessly_ to keep your chambers clean and everything!" Iron Bull's statement had me wincing and I finally turned to look at him. Had I been ratted out already? Flushed out and discovered within but minutes of arriving here?

"S-Sorry." My voice was small, inaudible. Just a breath of air, really.

"Mind goin' to get Adan? She may have hit her head harder than we thought." He stated gruffly, pointing toward the staircase with his big thumb. The elven woman, Mika, nodded and scurried toward the staircase.

What would he do? Would he kill me? No, Mika had called me the Inquisitor. They needed the Inquisitor alive. By that logic, killing me would be bad. Doom to the world. I fidgeted in place, feeling the weight of his stare like an anchor on my shoulders. I wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the bed and never come back out.

Hide. I wanted to hide. Please-

"Boss, you're not... looking too good." That didn't mean that he couldn't hurt me. He was Ben-Hassrath, after all. He probably knew how to hurt people in many ways and still keep them alive. Oh god oh god-. Movement in my peripheral. I noted how Bull seemed to step _away_ from me. What? "Look, I don't want to end up like your maid did. If you're gonna puke-"

"W-W-Wha—I c-caa-" I stuttered, tears springing to my eyes yet again. Stupid! Calm down, you idiot.

"Alright alright, what's wrong this time?" A grumpy voice asked as the owner ascended the staircase. A bald head popped up and a bearded man stared me down before taking in the mess at my right. "Maker give me strength. There's a bucket for a reason, you know!"

"S-Sorry I-"

"Doesn't matter, now. What seems to be the problem? The girl is fine!" It was the resident healer, Adan. In all of his grumpy glory. On the game, I found his attitude almost amusing. Here? Aimed at me? I felt like a scolded puppy.

I wanted to go home, now. This was just a dream, right? So if I wished hard enough, maybe I would just wake up! I closed my eyes and concentrated. Concentrated on waking up. Being anywhere. Anywhere but _here_.

Then my hand pinched, like a cramp. My fingers seized and arm shook on it's own accord. The pain started dim, then the green light in my left palm erupted and crackled. That time I screamed, looking down in horror at the huge gash in my hand. It looked like a gash, why did it look like-

"Shiiiit." Bull sounded less than pleased.

The Anchor started to go erratic, green light pulsating and growing. Growing growing. My ears popped and it was like electricity climbing up my arm. Pin pricks, the jagged light biting into the skin and making the hairs rise.

"Stop it! S-Stop it!" I yelled, waving my arm and crawling backward. Back back. As if it would get me further away from the scary light. Green. But it was attached to my arm! To my arm!

My stomach dropped as I fell butt first onto the cold unforgiving floor. "Unf!"

"Calm down, you need to calm down." Bull informed as he took a step toward me. A step that registered as threatening. Something I needed to get away from. He was a huge man and I was having none of it. I stood up and bolted. Ran. Run run.

My body felt smaller and bulkier than usual, which threw me off balance. I stumbled passed the burly Qunari as he reached toward me, my hands scraping the floor as I hoisted myself back up. This only added to the adrenaline as I stumbled down the staircase. Out out. I needed out.

Part of me knew this place like the back of my hand. I'd gone through this place dozens of times. Nothing had changed, from what I knew, aside from the obvious size difference. Everything was so much bigger. The doors slammed open and the only sound I could register was the slapping of my bare feet on the floors. I think I might have even knocked someone over. Multiple someones.

It was like I had tunnel vision and the people dressed in frilly dresses and masks didn't even register on my peripheral. The gasps of horror and whispered words lost to me.

I was about to run out, into the upper courtyard. But I saw a huge group of people blocking the large door and my stomach dropped. The whispers seemed to disorient me and I knew, consciously, what they were saying. I could make it out, but none of it seemed to even register. I was like a frightened animal.

My body collided with the door to the rotunda, where I knew Solas resided. I needed to hide. _Hide_.

Thick stringy hair fell into my face, the blonde strands getting in my mouth and blocking my vision. The door whined as I threw it open and slammed it shut with a resounding, _ **'THUD'.**_

It seemed to echo through the empty room. I heaved in lungfuls of air as I entered. The only thing I was thinking of was where I could possibly hide. Hide and hope that it all went away. So distracted, in fact, that I did not notice the bald elf at my left. The man staring at me with distaste.

"What do you need?" I could practically feel the glare as he looked at me, only for his eyes to widen as he averted his gaze. The tips of his ears turned pink and his hands flew up to shield his eyes from... me?

I stood there in confusion. The room seemed only to get colder, the air shifting in places that I knew shouldn't be exposed. My mouth pinched into a frown, heartbeat refusing to slow. The door to the rotunda opened, heavy footsteps and clinking armor sounding through the room.

"Inquisitor, is something the matt— _oh._ " Cassandra paused in the doorway for a few seconds before slowly pulling it shut behind her. "If you are going to be running about Skyhold, could you at least be _decent_?"

That's when I noticed I was in my underwear.

Ever have those dreams where you wake up somewhere, like maybe in school, and you're not wearing a thing? Sometimes you're naked. Sometimes you're in your underwear.

My gaze slowly lowered as I stared at my body, which was completely foreign to me. I wasn't supposed to be this short, this pale. I didn't have this many scars. I started shaking, mortified that I was standing there in only my underwear and some bandages.

Thoughts running a mile a minute, the gears were turning. I held my arms in front of my chest in a futile attempt to cover myself from Cassandra and Solas. The activity above having gone suspiciously silent.

If this was true. If this was what I thought it was, there was only one thing that I needed to know. I _needed_ to know it, to decide just who I was. _Which Inquisitor's body was I stuck in?_ I was, obviously, a dwarf. If the height difference was anything to go by.

The fact that I was even entertaining the idea. A ridiculous thought, really.

"W-What's my na-ame?" An odd question to ask, no doubt. This got them to double-take. Standing there in my skivvies, I ask the barest of questions. A question that I should know, right?

"Excuse me?" Any sign of disdain from Solas' voice seemingly gone. He only appeared taken back, at that.

"What is my na-ame?" I repeated, voice small and almost child-like.

"You cannot be serious. It isn't funny, playing games like this... Inquisitor?" Cassandra asked hesitantly, concern on her sharp features.

"W-What- p-please. J-Just." Just answer the question!

"Malika." It was Solas that spoke and I could have sworn that one word alone gave me chills. The only Inquisitor I didn't give a lot of time to create? No customized name? Because- Because- "Malika Cadash."

Because it was the Inquisitor I'd used to make all the _bad_ decisions. My hands found their way into my hair as I yanked and pulled relentlessly. This wasn't happening. It wasn't. I crouched, head between my knees, and shook. Shook like a goddamn coward.

Of all the places to find myself stuck in – it was _Thedas_. Of all the Inquisitors to find myself trapped in – it was Malika. Malika, who was in it for personal gain. Malika who sacrificed the Chargers. Malika who had punched Solas. Malika, who everyone hated.

My thoughts came to a halt when the door to the rotunda flew open, once again. My wide eyes zeroed in on the burly form that waltzed in.

"Oi, have you seen the – Oh, hey Boss. Been lookin for-" He'd paused to look at me, not making any move to come any closer. But I didn't want him near me. Iron Bull was more intimidating, in person. Especially since he was so calculating underneath that exterior of his.

"G-Get back!" I thrust my left hand in their direction, wishing nothing but to put some distance between me and them. These people who should not even be real. These people who, obviously, didn't believe a word I was saying. It wasn't real. It wasn't real!

The mark crackled and lit up. They all froze in place, faces dropping. I could have sworn I saw the blood drain from Iron Bull's face.

 _They must have thought I was joking. Messing with their heads. Playing around._

 _Who wouldn't?_

That's when the Anchor discharged. The sound akin to an electronic powering down, only amplified to an extent that made my eardrums pop. The ominous green glow reflected off of the their faces, making the horror quite evident, right before we were all sent careening backwards. I was knocked against the wall, head bouncing with a resounding

 _ **'CRACK!'**_

My ears were ringing like a gong, vibrating and throbbing incessantly. My vision wavered. I was on the ground. What happened? My hand clutched at the back of my head, where the pain originated. Warm liquid stuck to my palm and my eyes focused in on-

Frantic yelling followed and the sounds of distressed screams up in the library above. It pulled me back from the haze. Solas, Bull and Cassandra were in the process of standing back up on the other side of the room, obviously in the same predicament as I. Solas' desk and all of his painting supplies scattered about the room haphazardly.

Whatever I'd done had caused some major damage. I even saw some books from upstairs on the ground, as well. Birds squawked from the upper levels, black feathers fluttering down in front of us.

"Kaffas! What was that!?" A man cried after the screaming from upstairs had died down.

" _That_ -" Solas brushed his pants off and turned to look at me, disapproval heavy in his eyes. "-was the Anchor."

* * *

 _First day and I was already off to a bad start. What's the worst that could happen?_


	2. Not What I Asked For

" _Not What I Asked For"_

I don't think anyone would ask for this, to be honest.

If I thought yesterday was bad, today was worse. Was that possible? Apparently. Evidently none of this was a dream, because I woke up early the next morning in the same place. Same room. Same vaulted ceiling. Same red silk sheets. Same short and stocky body and chubby hands.

The only thing that could cross my mind as I tried to recover from the horror of yesterday was, _'Why didn't I just watch Youtube videos like every other person?'_

Instead, I had to create this monster. This... this woman, who has likely screwed over more people than I can count. I sat there, threading my small calloused fingers through the messy blonde hair that tumbled down to meet my broad shoulders.

 _'Malika.'_ I stared down at the aged stone floor, toes wriggling as they dangled off the bed. Malika may have been a tyrant, someone who used others for her own ends. Only in it for herself. But … she was still a person underneath all of that, right?

I winced as my pale feet hit the icey stone of the Inquisitor's bedroom. The sun had not completely come up yet, casting the bedroom in a cold blue hue. I shivered, pulling the robe tighter. They had, once again, sent the grumpy apothecary up to check on my wounds. They said my head injury was worse than they thought, since I was experiencing such 'confusion'.

Well, they weren't wrong by any means. I certainly was _confused_. Just not in the sense they thought I was.

My knees wobbled as I took one step. Two step. Three. Four. Feet slapped against the ground as I stood atop a rug in front of a full length mirror. Even in a robe this body looked small. Almost stocky, from my point of view.

No wonder she was a warrior. The woman had some serious muscles.

The woman in the mirror seemed to glare back at me for a moment before fear took hold. Her red eyes went from a fiery anger (Which appeared to be her resting face) to a wide, almost doe-eyed innocence as she took a step back. I shook my head, eyes glued to the image before me. Her black tattoo on her cheek stood out on her face, as did her deep scars. This woman... in the mirror. It wasn't... It … _itwasn'tme_.

Not me not. Not—

Have you ever looked into a mirror and not recognized the person before you? Someone else staring back at you, copying your expressions—your movements. Everything.

When my head turned, I could have sworn I saw them twinkle and glow green for a second. I shrieked and stumbled back, falling onto my bottom. My hands came up and I squeezed my eyes shut, fists pressed against my sockets. Pressing so hard, I began to see stars behind my eyelids. _'Go away go away. Please go away.'_

I wished and wished. But nothing worked. I was still curled on the floor of the Inquisitor's room rocking back and forth. Alone. Fear settled in my gut, turning to ice. Fear was the one emotion that seemed to rule my life. Ever since I was a child. It was why I was a shut-in. Why I avoided people. _I feared them._

' _By the Stone, what a pathetic little thing.'_ I thought I heard, causing me to flinch and gasp. Only to be interrupted.

There was rapping at the door, echoing through the empty confines of the room. It came from the bottom of the stairs. Where had that voice come from? My head snapped up, blurred vision catching sight of the frail form at the bottom of the staircase.

"Lady Inquisitor?" A timid voice called. Wasn't her. It'd sounded different. That's when I realized I was still on the floor.

Oh no no. nono. I couldn't have them see me like this.

I scrambled up, stumbling against the mirror in the process. I refused to look into the mirror. And that's how the young woman I puked on found me. My fingers gripped the wooden edge of the mirror, knuckles turning white as I steadied myself. My hair was, likely, disheveled. I stared at her, eyes wide like a spooked animal.

"I heard a shriek, a-are you well? Do you need assistance?"

"I—I." My throat closed up as I stood there and stood at her awkwardly. The silence drug on as the scarred elven servant stared back at me expectantly. So long, in fact, her face began to grow concerned. Stupid Luna, think! "I just—I just. I … am sorry. I'm sorry. Just... heh... ge-getting dressed... heh. Yeah..."

"Inquisitor? Maybe you should get some rest. Adan ordered a full night's sleep. It looks like you-" She was cut off as I turned, accidentally catching a glance of myself in the mirror again. I jumped, seeing the green glint appear in my eyes again.

I squeaked and stepped away from the mirror, arms up against my chest.

"Inquisitor?" This time she spoke softly, as if to a child.

"D-D-did.. did you see it? M-My eyes... g... they _glowed_." My voice cracked.

Now she was looking at me like I lost more than just a few of my marbles. One of her eyes got bigger as she examined me closely, eyebrow rose. The look seemed to make my anxiety double. Was it bad? Was the fact that my eyes were glowing a sign of something bad? Did I ruin this body when I woke up in it? Was it the Anchor?

She took the initiative and put her hand on my shoulder, gently leading me to the bed. I took a seat, hands fidgeting. "M-M-Maybe yo-you should get Adan." My voice, a whisper.

"You are fine, my lady. Our eyes do that so we can see better in the dark. Elves and dwarves have that in common." She explained in a soft tone as I heard some clanking and clattering. Then the pouring of liquid. She set a cup in my hands, "Here, drink. It'll help."

 _Oh_. Ohhh. Of course. Kind of like how animal eyes glowed in dim lighting, especially on cameras. Elves in this world must have the same thing. Why hadn't I thought of that instead of just freaking out like a moron? I felt like a complete idiot.

"S-Sorry..."

"It's okay. Just sit and breathe. Focus on the cup." Mika's voice almost sounded more confident, then. Like she knew what she was talking about.

"Thank you." I muttered, staring down at it.

"It's s-still so early. P-Please get some rest."

"Early?"

"Y-Yes. The sun hasn't even risen."

I blinked, gaze slowly moving toward the door to the balcony. Sure enough, the stars twinkled happily in the sky. The moonlight was bright, sure. But it seemed I had mistaken my ability to see clearly in the dark for dawn approaching. I sighed and set the cup down on the nightstand, heart finally slowing down.

* * *

The next day wasn't any better.

It's like they knew I could hear them. The things they said about me. Calling me those names. I hadn't meant to run around naked the day before. I had been in a panic! I was scared. Could they not see it on my face?

But they didn't seem to care. They gossiped away.

Well, it wouldn't be the first time I was gossiped about. But at least the people that did it before did it when I wasn't around.

It was a constant thought that seemed to go through my head, all my life. Were they looking at me? Did they dislike me? Were they talking about me? Constant worry, roiling in my gut. Only now, it was true. These people … they were cruel.

I sighed and curled into myself as I walked out the door and into the courtyard. I tried to stay a reasonable distance from people. Reasonable meaning I was literally on the edges in the shadows, even going as far as scooting behind the bushes. No one seemed to pay me any heed. Though I knew my stealth skills were less than stellar, as I'd gotten a few confused glances.

The sparring ring at the bottom of the staircase was surrounded by Inquisition scouts and soldiers. I think I even saw Cullen amongst them. Even though it was clearly snowy in the mountains, somehow the trees inside of Skyhold retained their Autumn colors. It was almost beautiful as the leaves danced and fluttered to the ground.

In the middle of the sparring ring, a soldier was head to head against none other than Cassandra herself. Her black hair shifted as she strafed to the side, avoiding the mans swing as she deflected it with her round wooden shield. The sheer difference in experience was evident in the way they held themselves in battle.

Cassandra. The most powerful and intimidating woman in the game. Well, in my opinion. Aside from Vivienne, she was one of the few women that I looked up to. Cassandra for her ability to stand up to people and stay true to her views. Vivienne for her drive and social grace. Both for their strength.

I was so envious. I wished I could be like that. I was just me. Luna, social recluse. Shut-in. I was afraid of people and couldn't even speak up when spoken to. I couldn't even make _eye contact._ I had no back bone.

Metal sang as their swords clashed against one another, armor glinting in the afternoon sun. The clear skies smiled down onto the snow covered mountains. The cheers of the men and women echoed faintly inside of Skyhold's high walls. I stared blankly, feeling my chest getting heavier.

I was starting to come to terms with the fact that I wasn't going to wake up. I couldn't. Because I was already awake. I was in my Inquisitor's body somehow, some way. One thing I knew for certain... I needed to get back. At least if I were gone, they would have someone that was capable of moving forward. Capable of rallying people and leading them.

I was nothing. I am nothing. I would never amount to anything.

I was just a spineless nobody. I came from Earth, where the biggest problem I had was when the wifi died out.

You know, maybe Cassandra could be the Inquisitor. She certainly had the drive to do it. She was good at leading people and showing them how it was done. She wasn't afraid of speaking up.

I shook my head. No. Moping and feeling bad for myself would get me nowhere. How many times would I have to say that to myself to get it through my thick skull? Sighing, I slowly made my way toward the Herald's Rest. The tavern was situated not far from the sparring ring, but as I got to the door I paused.

What made me pause was the sound of more laughter and the sounds of singing from within. More people. What made me think going to the tavern was even a good idea? Going in there would probably make it worse.

 _'Adan told me to take it easy, perhaps I should just go back to Malika's room?'_ I thought to myself, just as the door opened. The laughter and singing got louder, the door no longer muffling the noise. Then it got quieter again as it clicked shut. I came face to face with another dwarf and my brain practically stuttered.

It was Varric. He was looking at me. But that wasn't what got me to pause. It was the guarded look on his face.

Even him.

My chest hurt so much. Why?

The dwarf plastered on a fake smile, "Sunshine! Should have known you wouldn't heed old Adan's order for bedrest. Headed in for some ale?"

"N-No I..." I trailed off, eyes wandering and refusing to meet his. I almost missed the confused expression that passed as I fidgeted under his gaze. "H-He only s-said... to take it easy."

My red eyes flicked over to him, then away. Back, forth. Back. When I looked back up, I spotted another one of the people from the Inner Circle. Only this time, I felt my heart squeeze.

Cole.

Oh, no. That just wasn't fair.

"Hey, ya feelin' alright? You ain't lookin' too hot." Varric's voice trailed off in the background, his head turning to the ramparts at what I was staring at. I was looking up at the lanky young man as he sat atop one of the walls, legs dangling off the side and hitting the stone in a rhythmic motion.

Yes, that's right. I was one of those _dreaded_ Colemancers. I had a huge crush on the spirit. I gulped, feeling the blood drain from my face as my hands got sweaty. If I wasn't fidgeting before, I definitely was now. Cole was looking out toward the medical tents, head turning to look at the sparring ring ever so slightly. His head tilted.

He was listening. I shook my head frantically, trying to think of something else. I looked down at Varric, who was staring at me like I'd grown a second head.

I didn't ask for this.

I knew how much the fandom hated people like me. In fact, if I ever met someone that detested people like me I might cry. No, I'd _definitely_ cry.

Why couldn't I be like one of the main protagonists from the fanfictions I read? I wasn't strong and beautiful like Ember from the Inquisitor's Ghost or Fay from Conventus. Yes! Why couldn't I be like Fay? She was a strong elven woman! And they both loved Cole dearly. And he loved them, too.

When I looked back up at Cole, he was staring over at us. I couldn't see his expression from that far away, but my stomach flipped and I whined.

"I-I-I need to go!" I skittered passed the dwarf and made a bee-line toward the main hall, intent on retreating to Malika's room.

The whispered words or the stares from the small groups of people scattered about in the main hall didn't even seem to register as my little body weaved through the groups with swift ease. I ignored the delicious smell that seemed to waft into my nostrils. Food was out on the long tables on each side of the hall, but didn't feel up to eating in front of a bunch of people I didn't even know. Nonetheless people that gossiped right in front of me.

It almost seemed like muscle memory, how easily my body seemed to twist and turn as I ran toward the door. I threw it open and tossed myself into it, taking solace in the silence that seemed to follow as I slammed the door shut.

I took in deep ragged breaths, feeling my lungs burn from overexertion. My stomach growled.

"A-Ah… damn…" I regretted the fact that I hadn't at least snatched some bread on my way by.

The remainder of the day was spent locked in that room. There were knocks at the locked door a few times, but I refused to go down and greet whoever was there. When I look back on it, I believe I probably got away with such petty and childish behavior because I had been ordered on bedrest for that day.

Night came and the knocks at the door ceased. I think they assumed I was asleep. But I couldn't sleep. I was stuck in my head, thinking about the situation. Flipping it this way and that. Trying to find a way to wriggle my way out. Trying to figure out what to do.

But it was for naught. I didn't even know how many of the things worked in this world. Nonetheless any of the options that seemed to pop into my head. Mostly just headcanons that I'd read about the fandom on Tumblr. Tears pricked my eyes as I hugged my knees.

I knew next to nothing about magic. And Malika was a dwarf, so no magical ability. I mean, the Anchor might be able to accomplish something. I didn't really want to get involved with Solas, though. Since I didn't really trust his intentions.

But one person I did trust … was Cole. He could read people like a book and would be the only person that would understand. Solas might, since technically he wasn't from this world either. But, again, I didn't trust him with anything.

The bald elf was unpredictable. An unknown.

Cole, on the other hand. Cole would help, right?

I let my mind buzz as I stood out on the ramparts in the pitch darkness. Or, what should be pitch darkness. Malika's eyes helped with that. The overcast skies and dim lighting from the torches far away didn't seem to help my mood. I opened the door slowly, wincing as it squealed. I squeezed through the opening and walked into the debilitated room that lead into the Herald's Rest's top floor.

My feet danced over broken boards and nails. Tip toeing my way around, almost like a spooked cat, I paused at the door and listened. Not even the sound of singing from the bard or talking from any of the residents could be heard. Absolute silence.

"You came to see me." A statement from a voice right behind me. I couldn't contain the squeal that left my lips as I whirled around, blond hair flipping into my face in the process.

"O-Oh my God!" I breathed out, holding my chest as I tried to calm my stuttering heart.

Once I realized who it was, my heart only seemed to speed up tenfold. _'Oh gosh. Crap. Crap.'_

"C-C-Cole." I squeaked, finally able to look up to meet his gaze. I knew how most interpreted him, his cool blue eyes. But it felt like he was almost … glaring at me. My chest started to hurt again.

He spoke, almost coldly.

"I don't like what you're doing. If we don't help people here, I will find another place." I shivered and almost lost my nerve. The Inquisitor really was a bad person, wasn't she?

"I-I … y-yeah … well." I stumbled for the right thing to say, my hands clasping and unclasping as I avoided eye contact. "I h-have … personal q-question... Ah.."

"No." My shoulders slumped and I winced at his flat answer. _That_ , I had not been expecting. I'd thought he'd at least hear me out. But no.

"Right. Sorry." Before he could see the tears that built up in my eyes, I turned and ran down out the door and into the cool air. Of course of course. The mark made it harder for him to read me, so he wouldn't know that I wasn't the Inquisitor. He wouldn't know. He didn't know. He –

I repeated it in my head, trying to push away the dull ache that it caused.

 _I really was alone in this, wasn't I?_

* * *

Two days. _Two days_ , I've been here. And it's been absolute Hell. Whenever I sat alone in my room, reading fanfictions and dreaming of a world not my own...I never thought it would be like this. Or, some part of me probably did. But I always read the ones where 'Person A gets swept away into X fandom'. Adventure and hilariousness usually ensue. They make friends and it's a grand time.

But that wasn't how this was going at all.

After I'd tried to confront Cole two days ago, I tried to avoid people even more. If at all possible. I couldn't escape the grumpy Adan, unfortunately. The old man seemed almost baffled at my timidness. Mika popped in every now and again throughout the days, making sure that the room was tidy and that I drank my water. The timid elf seemed to have the same problems I did with people. What with having no backbone and all.

It was awful. My body felt awful. I hadn't eaten since I got here and it was really showing. I sat in Malika's room, eyes downcast as I stood in front of the mirror. It was one of those things where it was so terrifying, so _wrong_ that you just couldn't look away.

 ** _'Thud!'_** The sound of the door creaked open down the stairs, causing me to flinch and back up.

Was Adan back already? Mika?

"Boss?" Iron Bull's voice resounded through the quiet room and I could literally feel my stomach drop.

Oh, no. Nono.

"Look, Malika, I need to talk to ya." He never said her name, or called her Inquisitor as far as I remembered from the game. It was always 'boss' this and 'boss' that. But it was really ' _bas_ '.

When she saw his horns peeking over the railings as he ascended the stairs, I squeaked and scrambled behind Malika's bed.

"G-G-Get out!" I stuttered, holding my hand out. I wanted nothing to do with the Ben-Hassrath. Malika had killed his friends and … Gods was he here to finish her off? No. He recognized the dire situation they were in and that they needed the Anchor, right? Bull wasn't stupid.

But the cold still pierced my chest like an ice spike when he turned to look at me, fully coming into view at the top of the stairs. His icy eye focused on my tiny form as I sat there like an idiot.

I scurried back and hid in the storage room at the back of the room, the ladder pressed against my back as I slammed the door shut.

"L-Leave me alone!"

Footsteps could be heard just outside of the door and I felt my heartbeat quicken. The doorknob jiggled and I screamed, throwing my body against the door to keep it shut. I heard him saying something from the other side, but my fear addled mind couldn't make any sense of it. I screamed even more when the door was being pushed, barely cracking open. But I pushed back, not wanting anything to do with him.

Then, salvation.

"Inquisitor? Are you okay?" I heard someone call and I just sobbed, curled up in the closet like a small child. Their footsteps could be heard hurrying up the stairs, only to pause. "Oh, Bull. Wh….up here?"

Their voices were fading in and out as I struggled to breathe. My hands were in my hair, yanking at the golden strands. I was trying so hard to pull myself back, to calm down. But no matter how hard I tried, it felt like I was spiraling again. My chest hurt from my quickened breathing and my sobbing.

I didn't even notice the two exit the room. Now that I think back on it, I am pretty sure it'd been Cassandra that heard my screaming. Why she'd been near my room was beyond me.

My thoughts just seemed to bombard me, telling me the things I told myself day in and day out. Stupid. Worthless. Waste of space. You can't do this. You can't do anything right. It was like a snowball effect and the longer I went on, the bigger and louder it all got.

It seemed like too long until I was able to just sit there and breathe again.

So I sat there in silence. My tears were dried onto my cheeks as I stared at the bottom of the ladder. I was seated alone in the closet. Quiet. My body felt even more worn out, then. I knew I hadn't been getting enough food and sleep, but after that it seemed almost impossible for me to even get up to go to the bed.

But I forced myself up, my legs wobbling as I shuffled to the side to open the door. The room was empty and I began to pad my way out of the closet, heedless to how scraggly I may have looked.

My foot bumped something, sending it sliding a few inches. I looked down, eyes wide in curiosity. There sat a bowl of beef stew and a plate of bread next to it. The stew had long since gotten cold, but I bent down and picked up the items. I stared at them skeptically.

What purpose did he have bringing me food?

In my dulled state of mind, I didn't really care if the food was poisoned or not. I devoured it, savoring the wonderful taste of the thick and hearty stew. I used the bread to wipe up the bits at the bottom, leaving the bowl and plate completely clean.

With that, I set them on the dresser and shuffled to the bed like a zombie.

That night, I actually slept.

* * *

My dreams were chaotic, as usual. Even back on Earth it was hard to sleep without the help of my medications. Which, thankfully, took away my ability to dream. Or remember my dreams. Whichever be the case, I didn't know. Nor did I care.

But here, it was different. Memories of the last days with my dad seemed to play in front of my very eyes. Our happy moments, our sad moments. It all melded together. Until the loud crashing noise, the crunching of bone and the screams tore them away. I was stuck, staring at the memory of when he was taken from me.

I was watching myself sobbing next to the twisted and broken remains of the car. I'd been ejected, only bumps and bruises to show. But my dad…

I could have sworn I heard someone trying to talk to me behind me, but I was too focused on the scene. I couldn't look away. I couldn't—

* * *

I awoke the next day, eyes wide and dread seeping into my chest. Like a cold winter day, blowing through me like I was nothing. Even my limbs were buzzing and cold. Though the hand with the Anchor was hot and sizzling, static beneath my skin. As if reacting to my dream.

So I simply lay there, focusing on being awake. Pushing that thought into my head. _'I'm awake. I'm awake. Not there.'_

Even though I'd slept through the night, I was still exhausted that day.

I lowered my head and stared at the dirt underneath my boots. They'd called me out to the upper courtyard for something and I'd been told to wait. For who, I didn't know. Even the scouts seemed to avoid me whenever possible.

Malika, afterall, was not the best person in the world.

Anger and indignation seemed to flare in my stomach, almost involuntarily. My eyes widened and I stared down at my stomach curiously. Only for it to pass, almost like bad gas.

"What…?" I silently wondered if it was a side-effect of me not taking my medication. Only to shrug it off, because this wasn't even my body in the first place. I wouldn't suffer withdrawals, right? Anti-depressants were not something to be trifled with. I'd stopped taking them out of anger for a couple days, only to be hit with the withdrawals. It was horrible.

I shook my head side to side, looking at the workers as they milled about. No dizziness or nausea. Check. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

That's when I heard footsteps approaching at my left.

"Inquisitor?" Solas stopped at my left and I slowly opened my eyes.

"Y-Yes?" I spoke hesitantly, almost unsure if I could even answer to the title. I, technically, was not the Inquisitor. But these people didn't know it. I stared up at him. _Oh my Gosh, he's tall._

Well, from my current perspective he was.

"I spoke with Adan. He has cleared you for leave." He informed, motioning for me to follow. I fidgeted a bit, only to skitter off behind him as he opened the door to the armory. "But he says that you have suffered memory loss, due to your head injury. Is this true?"

"I… yeah. I think so." I murmured, only to have the bald elf look at me with a confused look on his features. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize, your health is paramount to the Inquisition. Is it not?" It should have been said with a caring tone, but the way she said it made me flinch a little. Almost as though he were repeating something Malika had said, with a slight edge to it.

Honestly, I didn't blame him. Logically, if you punched someone they kind of disliked you. Just a bit. But it still made my eyes water, nonetheless. Shame filled my gut, making my face turn red. It hadn't been me that punched him, but I had a hand in doing it.

The fire from the forge heated the building as the warm air blew passed my, now blonde, hair. A woman stood in front of the fire, hammering away at a sword. She paid us no mind.

"Why are we here?" I asked softly, finally finding the nerve to speak up.

"I am here to assess your condition." Solas spoke simply as he looked over at an armor rack. "To see if you're fit for battle, per se. The healers are understaffed as it is, so you're going to have to settle with me."

I stood there and stared at him, wondering why we were in the armory if he needed to check my health. He seemed to pick up on my confusion. The mage sighed.

"Put on your armor. I need to test your body's mobility and motor functions." He elaborated, "This is killing two birds with one stone, as you are scheduled for a mission later this afternoon are you not?"

"I-I what? I am?" I squeaked and looked at the armor. My hands came up to rest against my chest, as if to keep a barrier between me and the outside world. I felt small underneath his gaze. Solas seemed to stare at me oddly for a moment before I stepped forward.

My chubby calloused fingers ran along the steel breastplate. Gashes and dents littered the thing, but it seemed to have held up during Malika's battles. It was heavy armor, for a warrior. I swallowed nervously, not even sure how to put it on. How was I supposed to figure this out? I would give myself away! They would figure out it's not Malika in no time.

He was probably testing me, wasn't he? Did he already suspect?

Unless what he said was true and it was just my paranoia. There was no way he could know. It's not like he could read minds.

I hooked my fingers underneath it and lifted it off of the stand, finding it surprisingly light. Or, lighter than I thought it would be. The torches on the wooden beam behind me flickered, sending my shadow dancing across the wall.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't. I can't.

"Is there a problem?"

"No. Not at all." I insisted, trying to shrug the breastplate on. I shuffled to the side and squeaked, the weight sending me off balance. I tumbled to the floor with a loud, _**'CLANK!'**_ and _**'Crash!'.**_ Solas simply watched.

He probably could have caught me, but he made no move. My face burned with embarrassment. Especially when I thought I saw his lips twitch. Likely in amusement.

"What is going on down there?" I heard a woman call from above.

"Inquisitor Cadash is getting ready for her mission." Solas answered the woman, who I identified as Cassandra.

I wriggled around on the ground for a bit, trying to figure out how to sit up properly without the metal jutting me in the side. This only seemed to pile onto my embarrassment as footsteps descended down the wooden staircase.

"I-Inquisitor." Cassandra sounded almost surprised.

"H-Help. P-Please." I squeaked from underneath the armor. I felt hands grab me roughly, hoisting me onto my knees. From there, I was able to stand up as she pulled the plate off of me. "S-Sorry. Sorry. It was stupid of me to try it without—I didn't. I don't know how to put it on."

I rattled on nervously.

"You … you don't know how to put on your armor?" The Seeker asked, holding the heavy metal in her hands with ease.

"I—no. No, I don't. I don't know how." I repeated, wanting to go somewhere secluded and crawl into a hole.

"Here, allow me to assist."

"Usually victims of amnesia are able to spark back their memories with things they are familiar with. Putting on your armor or going out on this mission should help, for example." Solas spoke behind Cassandra as she helped me put the breastplate on. There were so many straps and buckles that I couldn't even remember which ones went where. The woman didn't even bother to explain to me as I watched and tried to listen to Solas at the same time. I felt the ball of energy in my chest constricting, telling me to leave. I needed to leave. Run.

"I don't think I can." My eyes darted from the armor to Solas. Cassandra moved behind me and started to help me with the other pieces, "I don't."

The elf's hands were resting behind his back as he stared down at me with a frown. Almost like he couldn't quite understand what he was seeing. I seemed to be getting that look a lot, since my arrival. When I'd created Malika, I'd had her personality and background made up in my head but I wasn't sure how much of it was true.

"Stand up straight, Inquisitor." Cassandra pushed on my back, causing me to straighten out of my slouched posture. I muttered a 'sorry', but kept quiet after that.

"You have years of training to rely on." He replied, referring to Malika's training back with her family. "Coordination in the battlefield should prove difficult, at first. But I believe you should be fine."

I didn't think they understood the gravity of the situation, then. They simply assumed I couldn't remember _them_ , but could still remember the training and past with my family. The Cadash family. I felt the blood drain from my face as I stood there like a statue. Saying anything otherwise would probably only make the situation worse. Make them suspicious.

"There, this should do." Cassandra stepped back to admire her handiwork.

Part of me just wanted to tell them that I wasn't Malika. But another part of me was screaming at me not to. What if this? What if that? All of the horrible situations that it could cause popped into mind. The most likely being; them thinking I was possessed and therefore I might die. Inquisitor or not, an abomination was nothing to scoff at.

Then again, _could_ dwarves become abominations? I wasn't sure. I doubted it, honestly. And I was even less sure with the fact that Malika possessed the Anchor.

Add onto the fact that no one liked me by default? I was in for a bad time.

"B-But… I..." My words died off as she turned and walked away without another word. Solas said nothing, simply observing me as I shifted around. I turned, feeling the extra weight on my body as I did so. It felt unnatural. In my mind, I was screaming at how wrong this was. This isn't happening. Isn't supposed to happen.

But my body moved fluidly, only for my mind to interrupt and cause said movements to appear choppy and almost robotic. One step. Two step. I was at the door, only to stumble as I tried to walk outside. Solas said nothing.

I was almost expecting someone to laugh or notice how badly I was even moving in the bulky armor, but no one even gave a glance. That seemed to calm me, if only a little.

When we were out in the upper courtyard, Solas had me do a variety of stretches and maneuvers before he told me I was completely fine. Physically, that is. Although doing this did seem to allow me to trust in this body's muscle memory. Being able to wear the armor and make my way down the stairs and into the stables seemed easier than I'd thought it would be.

I almost expected to tumble down the stone staircase, if I'm to be completely honest.

The horses were led out of the stables, hooves clopping through the dirt lazily. I stood in front of the gate awkwardly, unsure of what I was supposed to do. I picked at my gloves nervously, staring up at the black beast before me. The horse shook it's head and made a noise, staring into my big red eyes.

"Hey there..." I spoke softly, holding my hand out. It put it's nose against my hand and I felt the soft velvety texture of the fine hairs. I smiled and ran my chubby fingers along it's nose gently.

Fortunately I'd ridden a horse before. Many times, actually. I, however, have never ridden a horse whilst in armor. Nor have I ridden one when it was more than twice my height. I stared up at it's back, gulping nervously.

That was going to prove to be difficult.

"I don't even want to be here." I spoke quietly to the animal, "I shouldn't be here, you know. I don't know what to do… I'm scared …."

The animal simply blinked and lowered it's head, likely asking to be petted more. I sighed and continued, only playing with the rough texture of it's mane this time.

"I'm so _so_ scared." I felt my chest starting to constrict again, tears welling up in my big eyes.

"Ey, don'tcha think it's kinda weird to talk to animals like they're people?" I heard a higher pitched woman's voice ask. I turned and looked, seeing an elven woman. Her choppy blonde hair shifted as she tilted her head to the side.

Sera.

"I ahh… no?" Speaking to animals wasn't that odd, was it? People did it to their cats. Their dogs. Maybe she was just trying to pick on me. I frowned.

She simply shrugged and hopped atop another horse with ease, opting for ignoring me after that. It didn't take long for some of the others to arrive. Among them, Iron Bull and Varric. They hopped up without an issue and I simply stood on the ground. Scared.

I should have tried to mount the horse before they arrived, because now they were there to see my inevitable failure.

I cursed underneath my breath as I grabbed the horn of the saddle and tried to heft myself up using the stirrup. I grunted and got my leg up half way, only to stumble and drop onto the ground. Thankfully, I'd landed on my feet.

"Having trouble, Sunshine?" Varric asked from the other side of the horse, sounding concerned.

"I'm fine." My voice wobbled as I tried again. And again. After the fourth try, I was finally able to awkwardly position myself on the horse. The horse was well trained if it didn't try to run off or get skittish as I did so.

Well, my daddy always did say to take my victories where I can.

I readjusted, feeling my face burn in embarrassment. I couldn't even look over at the three, who were likely staring at me oddly. Oh Gods, they were staring at me weren't they?

After a few moments of waiting, I was able to finally look to the others. They seemed occupied with themselves. Mostly making sure their things were strapped in and whatnots. I wondered what we were going out to do. How dangerous was it? Were we going far? How many days were we going to be away? Was I supposed to pack rations? What were rations?

After some thinking, I was finally able to speak up. First question coming to mind was, was there anyone else coming?

"Just you guys, what ab-about-?" I stuttered, feeling my face heat up again, "T-.. The others? Coming?"

God, I sounded like an idiot. I felt the instant urge to send my head through the nearest wall.

"Oh? You mean the stupid _humans_?" Sera sneered and the others turned away, pretending like they hadn't heard anything. I flinched and I could have sworn I saw Sera flinch, too. Just how _bad_ had Cadash been?

Everyone was quiet and seemed to pointedly ignore me. Iron Bull was atop a rather large and burly horse, his eye off somewhere else. Mouth set into a deep frown. Varric was on the other side of the group, conversing with a couple of scouts that had been assigned to my 'team'.

A sense of hopelessness overcame me, just then. The situation made me feel trapped, unable to do anything. I couldn't tell them I wasn't Malika. I couldn't not go on missions. I couldn't not be the Inquisitor. I couldn't leave, because people could die. I couldn't even die, or people would die. It would be my fault. All my fault.

What was I supposed to do?

* * *

 _ **God, help me.**_


	3. This is Real

" _This is Real"_

It took us a couple days to reach our destination. There wasn't really much talk between the four of us, as we quietly rode through the mountains and into a more green looking terrain. If I'm going to be honest, I think it was my presence that seemed to put them off.

From the small amount of conversation I did catch, little of which seemed to be directed _at_ me (even if the topic of said conversation _was_ me), we were to meet up with some people who were transporting some lyrium to Skyhold. We were preparing for something. That was all I got.

I'm 75% certain that the primary objective to the whole thing was to try and jog my memory. Or, rather, Malika's memory. Which sucked for them, because those memories weren't coming back. That thought just seemed to make me even more sad.

It was dark out, the flames from the firepit lit up our faces as we sat around it. The tents had been pitched and the air, fortunately, was not as crisp as it was up in the Frostbacks. I peered up, seeing the twinkling stars in the distance. The moons seemed to illuminate the area around us enough to see the horses tied to the tree 10 feet away. Their tails swished lazily as they stood there quietly.

"So, you remember anything yet Sunshine?" Varric asked from the other side of the fire. Sera snorted quietly and elbowed Bull, who said something back. They were oblivious to Varric's question. Trapped in their own conversation.

"...No." I answered quietly, eyes darting to the ground. I kicked my foot and bit my lip. If I didn't remember, would they suspect anything?

My eyes gazed blankly across the fire and observed the cart full of goods on that side of the camp. A few tents were set up near it, people seated just outside of them laughing and talking to one another. Companionship. Their helmets lay in the snow right next to them as they enjoyed a drink.

"Hey, I'm sure something will jog your memory. I've seen someone get their ass kicked so hard before that they forgot their name for two days." He chuckled and set Bianca at his side gently. His voice seemed hesitant. Unsure of how I was going to react.

So when I smiled, his eyes seemed to widen a bit in disbelief. Or maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like he didn't recognize the woman in front of him for a second. And he shouldn't.

During this pause, I heard the sound of something sailing through the air. My ear twitched and I flinched back, seeing something fly by my face.

' _ **Fwip!' 'Thud'**_

"Ugh!" Sera grunted and my eyes flew over to her, seeing an arrow jutting out of her shoulder. Fear shot through my core, like ice.

"Sera!" I yelled. My instinct was to get up and go to her, and I did. But not before hearing the sound again. My body seemed to move on its own as I dove to the ground, hearing something hit the metal pauldron that I was wearing. I screamed.

Everything happened so quickly, in a flurry of movement. Iron Bull was up, greatsword drawn. I heard his battle cry. Varric was already up and aiming at the enemy with Bianca. Sera broke the wooden part of the arrow off, leaving the head in her shoulder as she grabbed her own bow.

Me? I curled into myself on the ground, shaking. I couldn't move. Couldn't find it in me to move. I wanted to cry. Oh God, I wanted to cry.

Moments passed, metal scraping against metal. Another cry from Sera, only this time she called out the Inquisitor's name.

"Malika!" Sera yelled angrily. I peeked up, seeing Iron Bull in the background fending some men off. Their bodies deformed looking, crystals jutting out of the templar armor. The red energy seemed to permeate the air around them, floating like a sort of mist. Red Templars. How had they found us? Were they tracking the wagon?

A few bodies lay in the grass near the treeline. The clearing allowed us enough of a visual on all of the enemies that approached. What little amount of people that were there had jumped into action, everyone moving in a flurry of movement.

I even spotted a few Inquisition soldiers laying in the snow, their armor crumpled in.

Varric and Sera stood in the back, firing at them. A man appeared in a poof, seemingly out of nowhere. It shrieked, spinning it's body as it tried to gut the rogues. It's arms looked to have fused themselves with the red lyrium, branching off into tapered points.

Sera swung her bow like a bat, hitting the thing in the shoulder and staggering it. Varric rolled out of the way just in time to shoot at it.

I was so engrossed in seeing them fight that I didn't hear Bull call Cadash's name. I was watching Sera fight against the rogue in front of her with her own dagger, a look of sheer determination on her freckled features.

It was only when I felt the ground rumbling that I was broken out of my daze. Even from my spot on the ground, it was almost like I couldn't keep myself upright. Dread settled in my stomach as I slowly turned around, red eyes wide in shock.

It was like my body couldn't even move. Not this time. I shook in place, staring up at what looked to be a red templar behemoth. It had to have been over ten feet tall, in the very least. The blighted crystals encased it's whole body and it seemed to amble alone on three limbs. One of which was it's arm, which almost resembled a gigantic hammer of some sort.

It looked down at me with it's small red glowing eyes and screamed. I half expected a roar, or a growl. But a scream? A shrill cry of sheer agony ripped through it's lips, it's hammer shaped limb lifting up.

"Move, kid!" Someone grunted as my body was lifted, like a ragdoll. I couldn't see by who, but my body went flying. Careening out of the way as it swung it's red hammer down with a resounding, _**'THUD!'**_

Snow and slush burst into the air and I could hear the horses near the cart whinnying and shrieking to get out of their binds.

And the one that had thrown me?

The Iron Bull.

His massive body wasn't far away, his meaty hand covering his ribs as he barely stood upright with the assistance of his sword. I crab walked away, not caring how undignified I looked in that moment.

It seemed to take forever before the thing was even worn down enough to kill. It definitely didn't go down easily. I, of course, remained on the sidelines like the coward I was. Malika's sword long lost in the snow somewhere near the fire.

There were few, if even that, Inquisition soldiers left. Maybe two or three out of the dozen that were there before the battle. Sera and Varric were panting from overexertion, their faces and arms battered and bruised. But it looked like it was Iron Bull that had taken the most damage.

The Ben-Hassrath's good eye kept getting covered by blood from a head wound just above his eye. His hand frequently wiped at it, only leading to more blood pooling over and blocking his vision.

I spotted movement just behind him. My mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out.

"Get out of the-" A gurgle and a disgusting squelching noise cut my warning off. I could only stare up as the sticky warm substance spattered into the snow beneath him.

The sound made me want to throw up on the spot. But that wasn't all. Blood. It was absolutely everywhere. He'd been in the process of turning around, barely reacting to my call, but he wasn't fast enough. His body was too slow and sluggish from the drawn out battle. The warrior tried to block, but the attack had hit home.

Iron Bull let out an enraged cry as he grabbed the templar, viciously ripping him off of his feet and tossing him into the snow at his right. The fact that the man was in full plate armor didn't even seem to dawn on the man.

 _ **'Clang!'**_ The templar hit the unforgiving ground and just as he was about to get back up, a blade was plunged through his chest plate. It crumpled like aluminum.

I watched, in horror. I couldn't breathe. Oh God, I couldn't breathe. My chest heaved and I tried to take in a breath. In out. In. In? It wasn't working. I was hyperventilating.

The Iron Bull let out a cough, a dark substance spattering on the ground as he fell to his knees.

"Bull!" Sera yelled, running up to him. She barely caught him, lowering him to the ground as gently as possible. It was evident how difficult that was, seeing their sheer size difference.

The longsword was still sticking out of his body, but he paid it no heed. The only thing I could do was watch. Watch in horror as one of my favorite characters—no. He was an actual person, he wasn't a character.

 _Characters_ didn't bleed, they didn't cry, they didn't hurt. These were people. Real people.

 _ **This was real.**_

It was all over as fast as it began. The silence all around us was almost deafening as I stared at the massive form laying on the ground not but 10 feet away. His mouth moving, speaking to Sera. The tears didn't go unnoticed by me. Or the screams as she shook his body. Telling him—no, demanding something. But I couldn't hear a thing. I simply stared.

He'd… called me a kid.

I stared and stared.

I couldn't move. I couldn't—I didn't do anything. I just watched it happen. The Qunari's body lay on the ground. Still. Almost too still, under the moonlight and flickering of the dying fire at my right. In the dim lighting, it almost looked like he had black paint covering his massive torso. Pooling into the grass and darkness. Leaking into the soil.

 _He knew. He knew. He knew. He-_

All I did was stare.

* * *

The walk back to Skyhold was quiet. I wasn't unaware of the occasional glare from Sera, either. Not even Varric looked my way. I didn't even sleep that night. The bags under my eyes darkening, exhausted. I simply stared forward at my companions. The three horses in front of me ambled lazily up the hill toward the fortress, hooves pushing through the crisp layer of the white substance. Crunch crunch.

I just stared. I stared forth at those three horses. Only two of which were occupied. The other…

My eyes watered, my chest aching as I looked away. I couldn't—I couldn't do this. I … I already…

* * *

"She just … stared at him." Was the only thing she heard come out of Sera's mouth as I came around the corner from the staircase. Dorian was bracing himself onto the railing, tears in his eyes as he gazed into the rotunda below. The Tevinter was shaking, from rage or agony was unknown to me. Unknown because as soon as he looked up at me, his broken expression morphed into sheer rage.

Originally I'd come up to apologize. I'm not sure what good that would have done, though. But a part of me felt it necessary. Perhaps even offer explanation. Tell them that it wasn't what I intended. But… again, what good was that? What's done is done. And I….

Everyone had long gone to their quarters or the tavern at that point, the clear sky allowing some of the moonlight to filter through the small windows into the library. A couple of candles flickered, casting warm illumination across Dorian's tanned face. Sera only turned and looked at me, expression also changing to that of disdain.

It was quite obvious how everyone felt about me here. I knew that from day one.

"You." I knew that Dorian wouldn't hurt me, no matter how angry he may have been. No matter how much I'd inadvertently wronged him. No matter—even though I killed his lover.

I took a step back, not even attempting to push back the tears that surfaced in my eyes. I even felt the blood drain from my face at the expression he was making at me. The look in his eyes. The way he … what I'd done to him. It felt like my heart was throbbing, threatening to crack in half.

I never asked for this. Iron Bull didn't deserve to die. Dorian certainly didn't deserve this. What little happiness the both of them may have had, shattered. Because of me.

I opened my mouth to protest, maybe even apologize. Like I'd intended. But what good would that do? What good would anything do?

But my eyes were transfixed on his hands, which were balled into fists. The sight of his aggressive posture sent my mind spiraling, hairs standing on end as I felt the oxygen leave my body.

Fear. Complete and unbridled fear jolted through my system as I flinched back, expecting him to hit me. Visions of someone, someone I'd rather not remember, flashing through my eyes in an instant. Pain. Pain. He was going to hit me!

I let out a cry, arm swinging and connecting with something. _ **'CRACK!'**_

"Unf!" A grunt.

When I opened my eyes I saw Dorian stumbling back, holding his jaw.

"What the shit!?" Sera cursed, snarling at me as I squeaked.

The tears burned in my eyes, falling down my cheeks. I didn't even fight it, then. I didn't notice the confused glint in the elf's eyes, nor the form of Leliana above. Daggers poised, ready to protect me had Dorian made a move to actually harm me.

I couldn't see anything as I turned and ran. And ran. The only thing I could ever seem to do was run. I didn't know where my legs were even taking me, unable to see anything as the scenery blurred. People yelled as I bumped into them, but I paid them no heed.

My boots slapped against the cold stone, slush getting splashed up and onto my pants. I'd long since removed my armor. Thankfully, since as soon as I exited Skyhold's gates my body went careening toward the ground. I fell, ungracefully, onto the ground into a pathetic little lump.

I just wanted to curl up and disappear. My eyes hurt, my ribs hurt, my lungs. Oh Gods, my lungs. It felt like I couldn't breathe. It just wasn't fair. This just wasn't fair.

It wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.

"Why…. Why whywhy." I coughed, wiping away the mix of snot and tears before they began to freeze in the wintery air. I looked up at the moonlit sky, stars twinkling down. I squeezed my eyes shut and lowered my head, "I didn't want this..."

What had happened only days earlier was testament of what I was even capable in this world. Nothing.

Wishing hard enough didn't seem to wake me up from this horrible nightmare. Perhaps… perhaps if I died I would wake up. Safe in my old world. Safe and alone, but safe. I stood up, heart pounding against my chest as I looked at the edge of Skyhold's bridge. Contemplating. Believing.

Believing that maybe if I just jumped, I could solve all of this.

Minutes passed, hours maybe, as I stared down at the steep drop into nothingness. I couldn't even see the bottom, even though the moon was so bright against the snow. It was either now or later. At least now, I could choose. I could be the reason. It would be painless. Unlike what would likely happen to me later. Dead and bleeding out somewhere on the battlefield. Full of fear and pain.

But no. I was a coward. I didn't—no, I _couldn't_. I couldn't do it. Because what if it wasn't true? What if I did die for real? Or, worse yet, doomed these people worse than I already have?

Another round of sobs wracked my body, but I fought against them. Curling into myself as I stood there, thinking about how much of a coward I was.

' _How could I even… think that? What about them? What about them?'_ But it wasn't fair!

I wiped the tears away from my face, feeling them begin to crust and freeze to my skin. Sniffling, I waited a few minutes before turning to walk back into Skyhold Fortress. Thinking, hoping, that the pain weighing on my heart would lessen. If only for a bit.

I wanted to help. To try. But how could I if I couldn't even speak up for myself? I couldn't speak without stuttering? I doubted anxiety medications even existed here, so I was completely out of luck.

I sighed, dejected, only to bump into someone. I stumbled, surprised. Eyes widening and flicking up, "I-I..."

' _I'm sorry!'_

Then, came the one sentence I certainly didn't need to hear right then.

"You don't care about people." The cold tone came from Cole. I, for the most part, didn't even try to hide the utter horror that crossed my features then. My body shook as I pulled up my hand, as if to reach out.

"Cole." I squeaked, "Th-That's not..." _'That's not who I am. I'm not her!'_

But wasn't I? I'd had a hand in it, hadn't I?

"No." His icy blue eyes seemed to pierce right through my soul. I felt my heart squeeze. He was my only chance at not being alone in all of this. My only…

"You don't. Care." He repeated, with more conviction. "And I don't have to be here."

"I-I do! I-I care, I don't—I don't." I let out a choked gasp when his hand moved. My body flew forward, as if on it's own accord. Closing the small space as I tackled him, pinning his arm at his side.

"No! Don't leave, please!" I was almost surprised how confident my voice came out.

"You won't miss me." He seemed to wriggle against my grasp, only for me to squeeze harder. A sob escapes my lips, causing him to freeze in place. I felt my vision wavering, mind becoming foggy. Air seemingly leaving my body. Again. No nono.

' _He probably doesn't like physical contact, you dolt!'_ I promptly detached myself at the sudden invading thought. Realization. But I refused to look up, ashamed.

I just stood there with my head bowed, barely aware of the tears that clouded my vision. Nothing is ever easy, is it? He was probably the only person that I could trust in this God's forsaken world. The only person that would even begin to understand my predicament. But the stupid mark. The mark.

I held my marked hand in front of my face and squeezed it shut.

I hated being here. I hated this!

' _Why. Whywhy.'_ I let out a whimper.

"I'm sorry..." I finally said, voice wobbling. I refused to look up at him, for the fear of seeing his angered expression. Those accusing eyes. Something inside of me felt like it was cracking under the strain. Threatening to shatter to pieces. It hurt. It hurt. Why did it hurt so much? I didn't actually know these people. So why did their words sear through me so? With every snide remark or look of disdain, it seemed to cut through me like a hot knife. Pushing me down. Down. Down.

It felt like I was barely clawing at the edges, trying to stay up. But there was only down. My voice, a whisper, "I can't. I can't. I won't stop you."

Everything was falling away. Maybe that was for the best. I couldn't do this. Could never dream to. They were either stuck with the tyrannical Inquisitor that I'd created, the monster. Or me, Luna, who cannot even fathom the thought of standing up for myself. A spineless nobody.

They were better off with the original Inquisitor. At least then, they would defeat Corypheus.

The thoughts were coming back. The ones I'd stuffed back at the bridge.

"No." I whined, hands making their way into my hair as I curled forward and shook. This was just too much, I couldn't do it. I died coming here, did that mean if I died I would go back? Maybe I was just in a coma and this was a dream? Wouldn't that mean that if I died here I'd just wake up, then?

This was all just a lie.

Lies lies, that's all I was. An imposter. A fraud.

My line of thought was broken when Cole's hand came into view and touched my face. I flinched, afraid. He seemed to hesitate for a second before grabbing my hand and leading me off to the side somewhere. Away from the prying eyes of the guards patrolling the fortress. I didn't even want to look up to see where we were headed. I followed without question.

The whinny of the horses in the stalls alerted me of our location. The barn.

"You aren't her." His tone wasn't accusatory, simply curious. Baffled, even. Though I didn't register it as so, simply curling into myself more and letting out a hiccup. "The mark makes you brighter, obscured. I..."

I took low, steady breathes. Trying to calm myself as I listened to him talk. Did he really see? Did he finally see? Was it possible?

The darkness of the barn forced my eyes to adjust from the lack of moonlight. Hay scattered the dirt floor beneath our boots.

"Y-You came to me for help and I turned you away. I didn't know." He continued. Then finished, voice sounding almost broken, _"I'm sorry."_

"I ca-an't do it. I can't I can't." I spoke swiftly, looking up at him. Pleading. The words just seemed to spill out. "Where I come from k-killing … never … I've n-never. A-And I-Iron Bull, h-he-"

It felt like a rock was lodged in my throat. It was painful, so so painful. I felt like my heart would burst from the sheer agony of the realization that still hung over my head. This was real and Bull was dead because of me.

It was all my fault.

"It's hard, like counting birds against the sun. You're too bright, but I-" He froze when I leaned forward and clung to him like a scared little child. He probably had no idea how to react to the sudden physical contact and I felt like crap for doing it, but it was an almost immense relief. Knowing that he might not leave me. That I wouldn't be completely alone in all of this.

I didn't know what else to do, so I clung to the only thing in this world that didn't try to kill me. Wouldn't shun me. Right?

"You know me." Cole's voice sounded almost baffled, like he couldn't understand.

It was like I couldn't get anything coherent out of my mouth, everything stuttery and watery sounding. So I simply sat there and waited for my sobs to cease. Eventually I slowly detached myself, shame rolling off of me as I realized that I'd probably made him uncomfortable. My, now blonde, hair fell in front of my face in curtains as I bowed my head.

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing that I was even able to say after I'd calmed, though the pain was still evident in my tone. "Y-Yes I … I know you."

Back home I'd developed bonds with people, despite said bonds being over the internet, so I was never truly alone. Even though I rarely spoke to my siblings or parents (a story for another time), I always had someone to go to. Someone to talk to. Or, rather, type.

But here, on Thedas, I was alone. Utterly and completely alone.

A hand patted my head almost awkwardly, causing me to blink away some stray tears and look up. Cole was staring down at me, looking completely unsure of himself. His hand remained, "You aren't."

It took me a moment to realize that he'd probably picked up on my fear and pain at being alone.

"But I thought—didn't you say-" I fidgeted, feeling uneasy and afraid I'd say something wrong. Offend him, even.

"It's hard." He repeated, but then added. "But not impossible."

* * *

I stood alone in the middle nowhere. Rocks floated in the sky, green fog rolling around my ankles and whirling into the air in front of my face. I blinked once. Twice. Before realizing just where I was.

"So this is the pathetic little thing that has taken my place." A jeering voice sounded from behind me. I whipped around, black hair falling in front of my face. Black? I was… I was me?

But I didn't have enough time to contemplate, as I stood in front of Malika Cadash. She was much shorter than me, her blonde hair tumbling messily to her shoulders. The scars on her face made her look much more intimidating, imposing as she glared up at me. Red eyes and a frown marring her face.

"M-Malika?" I asked, even though I knew.

He movements were swift as she reached out and grabbed a glob of my hair. I squeaked and struggled. The dwarven woman hissed into my ear, "Tell my why I shouldn't just kill you, little bug."

"A-A-Ah! It hurts! Stop!" I squealed, only to have her shake my head violently side to side. I stumbled. Could you feel pain in a dream? In the Fade?

"ANSWER ME!" She shrieked.

I tried to crane my neck to look up, intent on answering. The last thing I saw was the anger, the absolute fear, on Malika's face before I jolted awake.

I heaved in lungfuls of oxygen, feeling my throat burn from exertion. My eyes sluggishly adjusted to my surroundings, seeing a blurry form sitting next to me. Flinching, I tried to scramble back.

"Luna." A familiar voice made me freeze, vision focusing in. Smaller details becoming clearer. The morning sun penetrated the stained glass, sending daggers of red and orange light across the floor and stone wall. Cole. Cole was sitting next to me in Malika's massive bed.

"Cole?" I croaked, confused.

"You were screaming. Telling someone to stop." His brows furrowed, gaze penetrating my own. Trying to understand. Listen, it seemed. "Are you hurt?"

"N-No… Sorry. I-I just had a bad dream." I muttered, rubbing my arms and feeling the cool air from the balcony shift across my bare skin. I flushed and looked down, realizing I was in my pajamas.

I'd vaguely remembered Cole leading me up to the bedroom to rest, but beyond that…

"I—uh, how? Wait-"

"Mika helped. She was afraid, at first. But she knows. She likes you better like this … she likes, _you_. Luna. Not Malika." He tried to explain, but seemed to answer my unasked question. Mika probably had helped me into my pajamas. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"S-Sorry." I fidgeted, pulling the blankets up to shield myself. As if to hide, "Mika is a nice woman. W-Was Malika mean to her?"

The question had been gnawing at my mind for awhile, now.

"Yes." He answered, gaze hardening. Angry, "She hit her sometimes. Called her stupid. Said she was worthless, like her family had. _'Worthless child. Do you ever learn?'_ Sometimes her hurts bled out, battering, burning. Hurting others." Like Mika, I concluded.

I looked down at my hands, squeezing the silk sheets. I'd created a sort of backstory for Malika, I suppose. This seemed to further confirm how much of that was true. I'd made it so Malika had been shunned and hated by her family, causing her jaded outlook on life. All of the awful things I thought of. Once, harmless. Now?

I froze, remembering my dream. Or, rather, my time in the Fade. The image of Malika's angered expression and her hand pulling my hair flitted through my mind. Had that been real? Or my mind conjuring my fears, my guilt?

"….Wait. Why are you in the room w-with me? Don't you-" I stuttered, feeling my face heat up. "Er-yeah. Don't you have things to do?"

"When I tried to go, you became restless." He stared over at me from underneath his huge hat, eyes barely visible from behind his choppy blonde locks. My lips thinned at the thought.

I felt awful. I'd tried to cling to him, keeping him from doing what he wanted. What he needed to do. Wasn't I, as a result, taking advantage of his kindness? Self-loathing bubbled in my stomach as I looked away in disgust. I was being manipulative. Especially after last night's events.

"I didn't mean to … I am sorry." Because what would happen was, I would become toxic to him. Especially to someone as sensitive to human emotions/thoughts as he was. Granted the Anchor hid most of it. Too bright. I would be nothing but a burden to him, nonetheless.

There were other people out there that needed his help more than I. I was just ….

… unworthy.

"Thank you, Cole. You have he-elped. R-Really." I forced myself up, mindless of my shaking hands when I began sifting through Cadash's dresser for something to wear.

I clutched a random outfit and turned around, intent on telling him to leave. Only to find him gone. Poof. Just like that. My eyes found the floor and I pushed away the feeling of helplessness. No. I needed to hold my head high. I needed to try.

I wasn't alone anymore. I had Cole.

Shouldn't that be enough?


End file.
